Lois GreimanRemember how Betina said she was exhausted after promotion. Well, I’m at another grueling part of the writing process. The part where I’m just finishing up my manuscript. Or rather, I SHOULD be finishing. In fifteen days, two hours and fourteen minutes, I have to be done. But my latest and not so greatest still needs a butt-load of work.
So…it’s officially time to panic. And you know what? I’m glad. That’s right…I’m admitting here and now: I LIKE TO PANIC. In fact, sometimes I think I just sit around waiting for th
e adrenaline rush that comes with the terror. And it’s not just writing that makes me feel this way. It’s all kinds of things. Getting ready for special events, for instance. I was alllllmost late for my own wedding. Why? Well, partly because it was really kind of fun to see how nervous I could make my husband-to-be. Tee hee. But partly because I’m addicted to the nerves. For instance, I have an inexplicable inability to fill the car with gas when it runs low. Can’t do it until it’s below empty. It’s the thrill of the worry, I tell you. A couple months ago I pulled into a station and the car died as I was cruising up to the pump. Couldn’t make it five more feet. Loved it. Told everyone about it, most of whom thought I was a few aces short of a full deck. And I can’t deny it, it’s crazy.
I do it with my weight, too, these days. I’ll scarf down every possible empty calorie until I KNOW I’m past the ‘okay’ mark just so I can panic and starve myself. It’s painful, but it’s somehow oddly comforting, too.
Actually, I could quote a dozen other examples concerning everything from horses to house-keeping, but I’ve probably already admitted enough.
Yikes. This is like confession by blog. So as long as I’m confessing, someone tell me what the hell’s wrong with me? How do I fix it? And is there anyone else out there with this particular brand of psychosis?
www.loisgreiman.com
12 comments:
I think it's the adrenaline rush, Lois. I can't say I'm addicted to it, but it does bring a wave of motivation, when it comes to my writing. I mean, who would have believed I could write 100+ pages in three days before I let it go that long?
And the weight...I have an inexplicable inability to eat the first four or five days of vacation. Anywhere. So I came home from conference with a three pound loss. Great, right? Except I've eaten everything except the keyboard in the time since and have gained back the weight plus a few pounds. What's wrong with me????
At least I know I'm not alone! That helps...
Kylie :)
Weird loves company right? I eat like that, too. Everything or nothing. When I'm 90 I'm going to go for normal.
What's wrong with you? From where I'm sitting, nothing. Isn't it normal????
THANK you. So I'm right, Cindy? I'm normal and the rest of the world is crazy??
Lois you can blame your procastination on adrenaline addiction. (g)
And there is immense satisfaction in saying, "Why were you worried? It's done."
You write wonderful books and always seem to meet your deadlines. I say, if it ain't broken, Lois, don't fix it.
Me? I hate panic. It incapacitates me.
Man, Helen!! You have no idea how much I needed to hear THAT. Or maybe you did. Thanks.
During school I would wait until the night or so before and start last minute cramming (or creating if it was a project). I can work better on a deadline. Otherwise I just thing, eh, why start? I have LOTS of time. :)
But I don't do that with weight. On a short girl 4lbs can be the difference between jeans or baggy stretch pants.
Keri, yah hah!! Four pounds can make a big difference on me too, but I still pack it on just so I can take it off...or maybe it's because I crave ice cream more than oxygen.
Keri-- I always waited until the last minute on my papers too! I used to believe there was a "ruminating" area of my brain and that the switch that spilled the ideas and concepts into the organizing and regurgitating part of my brain wasn't triggered until the 24-hours-to-doom clock hit "go time." (g)
If you were to change you would not be sweet, lovable Lois. :-)
Ruminating. Absolutely, Deb. That's what my brain does when I sleep. Which is often.
Post a Comment